Blind Faith
by fhl1234
Summary: blinded at the age of four, Harry Potter struggles to have a normal life, when he turns eleven, he finds out he can have anything but. adopted from xyvortex
1. Chapter 1: Sacrifices

Blind Faith

Chapter 1: Sacrifices

Disclaimer: Regretably, I don't own the rights to the Harry Potter series.

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 _One of the things I miss most is the sight of a genuine smile. It's not like my family never did, they just tended to only smile only at each other. My memories of them are so different from the descriptions of a true smile that I've heard. There was never the openness or even true happiness behind them, just some private joke that my family all seemed to share at my expense. It was only after the accident that my aunt began to show me any kind of true affection, but of course by then it was far too late._

 _From the private journal of Harry Potter_

"Harry . . . Harry Potter, get up this instant!" The high-pitched nasal voice woke the young boy in question from a sound sleep. Sitting up on the side of the bed the lad scratched his head and basked in the feeling of the sunlight pouring into his room that morning. Cloudless days were a rare thing in Surrey and the boy was determined to get outside and enjoy some of it. Doing so would require that he finish his chores, which could only happen if he got out of bed.

With a weary sigh, Harry put on his slippers, his housecoat, and the dark glasses he used to cover his eyes, then shuffled out of his bedroom in search of his aunt.

Hearing activity coming from his cousin's room, Harry went in and was immediately put to work by Petunia. He pulled Dudley onto his side with little effort so that Petunia could wash her son's back. Holding Dudley's shoulder, Harry thought he could feel every contour of the bone where it pressed up against the skin. Dudley's muscles had wasted away over the last six and a half years, and it was only the constant attention of Harry and his aunt that kept sores from breaking out where bone rubbed against the skin. The cleaning and dressing of Dudley had become a morning ritual in the house. Harry found it harder and harder as time went by to remember what his cousin had been like before the accident that had killed Uncle Vernon and taken his own sight.

It had been one of the few trips where they'd actually taken him along. Mrs Figg was off visiting her sister and they dared not leave him alone for fear he'd say something freakish to the neighbors. Strapped securely into the back seat of the car, not for his safety but to keep him out of everyone's hair for the trip, Harry had been the luckiest, initially, when it happened. Dudley, he remembered, had been especially loud and obnoxious that day, pulling on his father's hair and slapping the back of his neck , demanding that they stop for food. It was while Harry was staring out the window, trying to tune out his cousin's voice that it happened.

There'd been no warning of the impending crash except a muffled curse from Vernon. The beefy man jerked his wheel to one side at the same moment that Harry had felt and heard the horrific thud of two vehicles colliding nearly head-on. Three years of living with the Dursleys had trained Harry well and helped prevent any injuries as the car went off the road. Harry was bent over double with his arms pulled tightly to his chest. The car had spun around and then rolled down an embankment before coming to rest, upended beside a large tree.

When he'd come to his senses, Harry realized that they were in danger and got free from his restraints. Looking about, he found Dudley had been thrown into the front of the car, likely when they'd had the head-on. Knowing that he couldn't move the heavy boy, he grabbed Petunia, as she was easily the lightest of his three relatives, and began pulling on her with all his might, pleading that she wake up and help him as he dragged her out the shattered back window of the car. He'd just gotten her clear when Petunia Groggily opened her eyes then began screaming hysterically. Not knowing what else to do, and having seen it done on the telly, Harry slapped her across the face as hard as he could. As much to his surprise as hers, Petunia stopped her screaming and stared at him with wide eyes.

"They're still in there, Aunt Petunia.! You've got to help me get them out!"

Both their gazes were turned back to the car where smoke had begun to fill the interior. Galvanized into action by the impending danger to her family, Petunia raced back with Harry, and between them they pulled Dudley out of the window and to a safe distance away. Taking a moment to look at his cousin Harry was shocked and a little sickened.

Dudley's face and hair was caked with blood; there was a spot on his skull as well that looked to have been flattened by the impact against the windshield. Dudley's normally mean face was slack and though he was deathly pale he was still breathing, much to Harry's relief. Pulling on Petunia's shoulder he tried to get her to come help with Vernon but she refused to leave her son's side.

Seeing that the first signs of fire were showing themselves around the engine, Harry ran back to get his uncle. Vernon was trapped not only by his restraints, but by the steering wheel as well, it looked to have been shoved forcefully against the big man's chest and wouldn't budge. Being four years old, Harry knew he had little chance of moving the overly-large man, so he began shaking him as violently as he could and screaming in his ear to wake up. The air inside the car was becoming stifling; between the smoke and heat, Harry could barely breathe.

Harry had just about given up when his uncle finally coughed and opened his eyes. "P. . . Petunia - Dudley?" the dazed man asked him as he came back to full consciousness.

Continuing to pull on his uncle's arm Harry answered, "They're outside, Uncle Vernon… the car's on fire.! We need to get out of here!"

Harry and Vernon both fought with the steering wheel, trying to find some way to free him, but he was too well lodged. Flames had begun to seep through the floorboard around Vernon's legs, and he grabbed Harry by the shirt. "Get me out! Get me out!"

Harry had continued pulling as his uncle's panic spread to him. The car was getting incredibly hot and Vernon had a crazed look in his eyes. It was then that Harry realized that he was likely going to burn up in the car with his uncle. There was a series of loud snaps coming from the engine compartment and All Harry could think of was how much he wanted to be out of that car when the world exploded.

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke was how much everything hurt. He tried to moan or call for help, but there was something in his mouth, some kind of tube. There were people around him too, talking quickly, using words he really didn't understand. He could hear people whispering in the room about burns and irreparable damage but couldn't make it out clearly at the time. Somebody must have noticed he'd wakened, there was a muffled curse and then a warm feeling floated up his arm. Moments later, Harry drifted back off to sleep.

The next time Harry woke, he thought it must be night. Everything was dark and quiet. The tube had gone from his throat, but a raw ache remained to remind him it had been there. The pain was still there, duller, but Harry knew better than to complain. He didn't know what could have woken him up when he sensed more than heard two figures at his bedside.

"Really, Albus," said a prim but feminine voice to one side. " He needs to come back to Hogwarts with us, or St Mungo's at least. His eyes are damaged all the way back to the nerves. It would take months of intensive spell therapy to regrow them. If he stays with the muggles, he may never see again."

"I understand Poppy," said another voice, this one of a very old and sad man. "More than you know depends on Harry's recovery. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be safe there. I failed Harry and his parents three years ago, trying to protect them, I wont Fail him again." As the old man spoke, Harry heard an odd popping sound in the room. Just after, another voice, this one was also male, but he sounded almost angry.

"Alright, Albus, what could be so important that you'd drag me out of bed to make . . . God!" The voice had arrived just beside the bed and its owner must have been looking down at him. Harry knew something about the way they were acting should worry him, but it all seemed like some fuzzy dream. "Albus, who is this child? What happened?"

"Shush, Severus, this is a hospital!" admonished the first voice. "This is Harry Potter. According to his aunt, he was badly burned as he tried to pull his uncle out of their wrecked vehicle. The pain of his injuries must have forced some accidental magic and in the end, he did apparate himself and his uncle away from the car. Unfortunately, Vernon Dursley didn't survive his other injuries. Have you brought the potions I asked for?"

"Yes . . yes, of course, here it is. He'll need to be dosed daily for at least a week, but there should be minimal scarring."

Ignoring the pain, the boy turned his head to try and follow the conversation between the two unseen men. Sucking in a ragged breath, he asked in a raspy voice, "W…W. . . . who?"

"Relax, my boy. I and my companions are physicians. We have some medicine that should make you feel better." With that, the old man helped Harry sit a little straighter as his companion slowly fed him the potion. Within moments of finishing it, Harry had fallen back asleep.

The three stood mutely for several moments, looking down on the boy's ravaged body mutely for several moments before the Potions Master spoke up.

"He'll need several more doses of the potion for the healing to be complete. I'll begin brewing them immediately and come back each night to dose him."

"Thank you, Severus," the older man said wearily. "Unfortunately, this bodes ill more than for just Harry. Injured as he is, he will never be able to stand against Voldemort. Do what you can for him and I'll have Poppy come by again with you tomorrow night to see how he's progressing. Still, I fear that we may have to rethink the meaning of the prophecy."

With a last word of farewell, Dumbledore and Poppy Apparated away, leaving Snape standing over the injured boy's bed. Even asleep, it was obvious that Harry was in pain but knowing that the muggles had used their barbaric concoctions on him, it would be dangerous to give him anything further. Heaving a final sigh, the potions master vanished as well, leaving the room looking as if he'd never even been there.

Back in the present, Harry and Petunia had finished bathing Dudley and changing his bedclothes. It hurt Petunia, Harry knew, to see her son this way, but at least Dudley was alive and maybe someday he would wake up. After they finished dressing him, Petunia cranked the head of the ancient hospital bed up so that Dudley could be kept company by the telly and they went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

Harry moved through the house as quickly as any sighted person. After the accident, one of his doctors had sat down with him and his Aunt Petunia to explain that his eyes had been badly damaged and that it was unlikely he'd be able to see again. For the most part, the doctor had been right; Harry lived in a world of darkness. When he was healthy enough, a member of the Ministry of Health had come with an application form to enroll him in a school for the blind. On top of his regular class work at school, he learned many techniques that made his life easier, including how to read Braille, how to use a cane, and the best way to organize his home environment.

Harry was an intelligent child and excelled in his studies at the school for the blind. He threw himself into his lessons, learning to use his remaining senses to make up for his lack of sight. Angela, the woman from the Ministry of Health, came to see Harry on a regular basis and supplied all sorts of materials to stimulate his will to learn. From her, he had received his first Braille cookbook. Cooking was one of Harry's great joys. Every spice and ingredient in the kitchen had its place, and he knew them all. The boy also found that cooking was easier since he'd started seeing the sparks.

It happened first when he was about eight or nine. Aunt Petunia had been in one of her moods that day because Dudley had been sick again and she feared he would catch pneumonia. They had been downstairs preparing a meal, and she was being nastier than she had ever been with Harry. It all came to a head when Harry, holding Dudley's tray, had turned and ran into her. His cousin's food and medication flew in all directions while Harry himself was knocked to the floor. He had just sat up when a stinging blow across the face knocked him back onto the tile.

Harry came quickly back to his senses as bright lights seemed to flash in front of him. As they faded back into his familiar blackness, he sat up and turned his head in the direction of his aunt's hysterical sobs. The boy froze in shock at the sight before him. He could see his aunt. It wasn't normal sight, not like he remembered. This reminded him of one time when his uncle had been burning some papers in a barrel out back and had stirred the ashes. A cloud of sparks had risen, swirling off into the distance. He was seeing the same swirling sparks again except they were all different colors and held themselves inside the black silhouette of his aunt's form.

Harry didn't mention it to Aunt Petunia, as so many things seemed to upset her anymore, but he practiced and learned how to use this new sight. He found that it was like a different eye inside his head that looked in all directions at once. He had to concentrate on it to see anything, and when he did it wasn't for very far, but it was sight after a fashion. The sparks only seemed to come from living things for the most part, though there was a box in the attic that had so many sparks in it that it nearly looked solid. He also learned that the colour of the sparks had meaning. His aunt's emotions and even his cousin's health were obvious to him just by focusing on them. Harry now also knew that if he concentrated on his own sparks he could make them glow brightly and cast shadows across everything around him, giving a vague outline to his surroundings.

It was just that particular ability he was using to prepare his cousin's breakfast that morning when they heard someone ring the bell and something falling through the mail slot.

"Go get the mail, Harry. I'll take care of the eggs." Aunt Petunia sidled up beside him, took the spatula from his hands, and shooed him toward the front door. Just as he arrived by the mail slot, it opened again and out fell another letter –one that Harry could actually see. The whole letter glowed just like the box upstairs, and on one side was a big wax seal with a large capital _H_. on it. Gathering up all the mail, he took them into the kitchen and laid them all on the table except for the glowing one.

"Aunt Petunia," the boy said, "I think this letter may be for me Could you read it to me?" His aunt took the letter and there was a long pregnant pause where Harry watched his aunt's sparks turn violet and green with agitation and fear.

"It's nothing, just and advert for some silly skin cream." His aunt put an end to any more questions as she folded the note and buried it deep in the pocket of her apron. Harry didn't know what was in that letter, but he was determined to find out.

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A/N: I adopted this fic some time ago from xyvortex. I suffer from depression and deleted it, but have found a renewed obligation to repost then write it. The pairings will remain the same. I might add in a few paragraphs here and their throughout the first two years, so be on the lookout for new info. The second year plot I added in last time will not play a part in this version…just to let you know. I feel that my writing has grown since then, so I'm changing it. Please drop me a review even if you've read the original. It'll make me post faster.


	2. Chapter 2: Tea with a Professor

Blind Faith

A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews. Even though I'm not to my original work yet, it still takes time to do this, so thanks for the boost of confidence that the reviews provide.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I'm not rich, so therefore I don't own the copyright for JKR's books.

Chapter 2: Tea with a Professor

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The rest of the week leading up to Harry's birthday followed a similar routine. Each morning, Petunia would get the early post and confiscate any of the increasingly numerous letters as they arrived. As the days went by, their delivery became more ingenious; It was almost as if their mysterious poster had taken Petunia's attempts at blocking the letters as a personal challenge. The next day a second letter was posted again to Harry and dropped through the slot; the day after yet more of the glowing posts were delivered, this time several were actually chucked through open windows.

Throughout all of this, Harry's aunt remained determined to keep the boy from receiving any of the posts. First she'd locked him in his room in the morning when the post would come but, after a flock of owls tried to break through his window, she resorted to having him at her side at all times. Letters continued to pile up and, as they did, so did Harry's determination to see what would be so important inside the envelopes.

One morning he actually got hold of another letter and noticed that it had changed from the first. Along with the fancy swoops of the script that he couldn't read, he also found the telltale bumps of Braille writing on the address. His suspicions were confirmed as it read:

Harry Potter

Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive

Surrey, England

He hadn't gotten any further when Petunia yanked the envelope from his hands and sent him to his room, barely keeping herself from hysterical tears. It was finally on July 30th, the day before his birthday, which many of Harry's questions were answered.

He and his aunt were upstairs moving Dudley's arms and legs about to keep the muscles and joints loose. This had become another daily chore since the accident and both of them were going about it quite professionally. They were startled from their work by a knock at the front door. Not waiting for his aunt, the young boy went quickly down the stairs to see who it was. Approaching the door, however, he noticed that whoever was on the other side had an abnormally large number of sparks running through them. Bracing himself without knowing why, the boy opened the door to meet their caller.

"Good afternoon." Harry recognized the voice to be that of an older woman, her tone very prim and proper. "My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. I am Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. You'd be Harry Potter?" At the boy's cautious nod the woman continued, "I've come calling in regards to the letters sent to you this past week. When you hadn't responded, we became worried something may be amiss."

"I…" the boy stuttered, "I haven't been able to read the letter as of yet."

"Well then," the old woman said in a slight huff. "I am therefore personally informing you of your acceptance to Hogwarts and offering to assist you in procuring everything you'll need for the school year."

"He won't be going," Petunia's voice carried down from the top of the stairs. "Harry is needed here to help take care of my son Dudley." Petunia bustled down from the landing and put herself between the professor and Harry. Feeling the tension between the two women, he backed away from the expected clash.

Harry was curious. He knew that neither he nor his aunt had applied to any school called Hogwarts, Aunt Petunia would have discussed it with him if she had. That this woman would arrive at their doorstep offering to have him study there intrigued him and he wanted to know more. Harry knew, however, that Petunia could never take care of Dudley by herself. Even between the two of them, Dudley's care was taxing at best.

His attention was pulled back to the present moment as the professor had somehow gotten his aunt to let her into the parlour to state her case. The boy was sent to make tea. When he returned to the sitting room with the tray and some biscuits, it was to find the professor still trying to convince the other woman of Harry's need to attend her school.

"Mrs. Dursley, you must realize how important it is for Harry to attend Hogwarts. Your sister, his mother, attended when she turned eleven as well."

Frustrated to be discussed as though he wasn't even there, Harry asked, "Excuse me, but why is it so important for me to attend this particular school? I'm already attending St. Virgil's in the fall at the end of break."

Her eyes feverish with determination and hope, his aunt said, "There, you see? The boy doesn't even want to go."

"Harry," Professor McGonagall said as she cut a sharp look at the other woman "your name has been put down to go since the day you were born. Both your mother and father attended, and you must as well if you're to learn to properly use your abilities."

The boy scrunched his face in confusion,"what abilities?"

"You mean she's never told you?" Professor McGonagall asked, turning to Petunia, "What of the letter Dumbledore left with him? You must have it, as I saw him put it in Harry's basket myself." Taking Mrs. Dursley's continued silence as a reply she said softly, "You've kept it from him haven't you? All these years and he never knew."

"Kept what from me?" asked the confused boy.

"No." Petunia's denial came out in a horrified whisper. "I forbid you to tell him."

"The boy has a right to know." Turning back to Harry, Professor McGonagall took his hands and said in a gentle voice, "You're a wizard, Mr. Potter."

"A what," the boy asked, not really sure what the woman could be talking about.

"You are a wizard Harry, and a fine one if your parents are any indication."

"No more," snarled Petunia with tears streaking her face. Taking Harry by the shoulders and turning him forcefully toward her, she tried to explain. "You have to understand. These . . . people – they stole your mother from me. When she was eleven, she received a letter just like yours and our parents were _'oh so proud_ ' . But I knew, these were dangerous things, abnormal things. I knew they would be the death of us all. I tried to talk her out of it, but she went to that freakish school anyway and learned all manner of abnormal things. It was there that she took up with that Potter boy, got married, and eventually had you. I tried to make her see, to understand how dangerous and unnatural it all was, but she would have none of it. She refused to listen, and what did it get her? Blown up, that's what."

"Blown up?" The boy whispered. "You told me that my parents died in a car crash."

"A car crash?" Professor McGonagall yelped, seemingly scandalized. "Lilly and James killed in something mundane as a car crash? My word – how could you keep so much from the boy?" Laying a hand gently on his shoulder, the professor continued. "You and your parents are famous in the wizarding world, Harry. If you're to attend Hogwarts there are some things you'll need to know."

"It all started almost twenty years ago. There was a horrible wizard by the name of," the professor stopped for a moment to gather herself and continued., "Voldemort. He believed that Muggles and Muggle-born wizards were inferior to pure-bloods."

"Hold on," the boy interrupted. "What's a Muggle?"

"It's the common name for non-magical people. Anyway, he surrounded himself with other wizards that believed as he did and set about taking over the wizarding world. They were ruthless in their cause, torturing and killing Muggles and Muggle-born alike. They soon had nearly the entire wizarding community of Europe cowering in fear before them. The dark wizard became so feared that people even became too frightened to speak his name. They would refer to him as You Know Who, or He Who Must Not Be Named."

The old woman stopped and took a sip of tea to settle her nerves before going on. "Voldemort and his followers were not, however, unopposed. There were wizards willing to fight these 'Death Eaters,' as they were called, and they put up quite the fight. Your parents, James and Lily, were Aurors. They were part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Both of them fought long and hard to bring Voldemort down."

"It was for this reason that You-Know-Who had your parents tracked down and, on October 31st, 1981, he entered their house in Godric's Hollow, killed both James and Lily; He attempted to kill you as well."

The boy swallowed audibly. "He tried to kill me?"

"Yes, he did, Mr. Potter, but for some reason unknown to us all, the spell backfired on him and destroyed his human body."

"He's dead then?" the boy asked.

The professor shook her head and answered, "I wish it were so, but Voldemort was a powerful wizard. I suspect that he may have found some way of preventing his death, though I believe that wherever he is now, he is all but powerless."

Harry sat back on the couch with his arms across his chest and pondered the events of the morning. So much had changed about the world he knew in such a short time. To be able to go to the school his parents had attended, perhaps even find out something of them there as well. Then there was the whole issue of magic. Harry had suspected all along that there was something different about him. There was no one else at school that could sense the sparks. There had also been the odd occasion when he had made something happen when he desperately needed it. Such had been the case when Dudley had fallen out of bed while Harry had been turning him one day.

Petunia had been out to the store that morning and Harry was changing his cousin's position to prevent him from getting bedsores. He had done it dozens of times by himself, but Dudley had gone over too far and rolled right off the bed. Light as the other boy was, Harry just couldn't manage to get him up. He was nearly to tears when suddenly the sparks came flowing down his arms and wrapped around his cousin, causing him to become light as a feather. Harry was able to lift him easily and put him back into the bed. The sparks had even healed the bruises on the comatose boy's arms and head where he'd hit. Thinking about the incident brought him back to reality and the knowledge of why he could never leave.

"Thank you, Professor." The boy reached out and accepted the woman's hand in his. "I would love to come to Hogwarts and learn all about magic." Harry could both sense and hear his aunt's agony as she cried into a handkerchief and quickly continued, "but my aunt is right. Dudley, my cousin, was badly injured in the crash that took my sight. He can't move or speak. It's as if he's permanently asleep and there's just no way that Aunt Petunia could take care of him by herself. So as much as I want to, I have to say thank you, but no."

Harry was prevented from further speech by the iron grip of his bawling aunt as she hugged him to her bony bosom. The boy felt a bit embarrassed and a little light headed as Petunia wasn't really giving him much room for breath, but Professor McGonagall remained silent for more than a minute, allowing his aunt to pull herself back together. From what he could sense by the professor's sparks, she was agitated, disappointed, and oddly – proud.

"Very well, Mr. Potter," she said at last. "I won't try to press you on the subject anymore today. If it would be alright with your aunt I'd like to come by again tomorrow on your birthday and possibly bring someone that might be able to help your cousin in some way." Turning her attention to Petunia she asked, "I'm assuming that you've given no thought of having a wizarding healer look at him?"

"I didn't," the distraught woman stuttered. "I didn't know that I could. The doctors said there was nothing they could do but wait for him to wake up on his own."

"Oh posh," said the professor. "It wouldn't hurt to have someone come take a look. I will see you both tomorrow." Quickly saying her goodbyes, the old woman bustled to the door and was gone.

Harry and his aunt spent the rest of the day doing their daily chores in a daze. Each of them were wrapped up in the possibilities of what could happen the following morning. Harry was sitting in the parlour late that evening when Petunia came downstairs with the glowing box that Harry had seen before in the attic. Placing herself just beside him on the couch she put the box on the table before them.

Taking his hand, she placed it on top of the box and said, "This was Lily's. She left it with me a few weeks before... before you came to stay with us. There's no lock on it, but I've never been able to get it open. I thought you'd like to have it."

Harry sat before the box, barely able to breathe. This was something of his mother's, something that he could touch. He ran his hand over the wood of the small chest and noticed that quite a few of the sparks seemed to be congregated around where the clasp should be and they seemed to all shift in the direction of his hand as he rubbed the lid. Taking a steadying breath he placed his hand at the centre of the sparks and jumped slightly when he felt a solid clicking in the mechanism under his hand.

Slipping from the couch, he knelt down before the box and reverently lifted the lid. Feeling inside, he found several objects and investigated each one. There were two envelopes, each with words written on them in that unreadable glowing script he'd seen before. He sat those aside, as he'd have to get Petunia to read them to him later. Also, there was a piece of wood about ten and a quarter inches long.

"That's your mother's first wand," his aunt spoke softly from over his shoulder. "I remember the day she came back from shopping for it. Swishing it around, and giddy as I'd ever seen her." A bony hand gripped his shoulder painfully. "I was jealous, Harry. I'm ashamed to admit it, but most of the bad feelings I had for your mother were because I envied her so."

Feeling around further he found a heavy velvet bag that made a metallic clinking sound when it was moved. When Harry opened it up he heard his aunt gasp in astonishment for whatever was there. Reaching in he found it filled with some kind of heavy coins, obviously money. He regretted his aunt had waited so long in giving it to him. They had been quite cash strapped since the accident. The pension from Grunnings was hardly enough to get by on and Petunia didn't dare work and leave the two boys alone.

Lastly he found a small, flat rectangular object with hinges along one side. He opened it up and nearly dropped it in shock. His aunt, becoming concerned at Harry's sudden rapid breathing asked him if he was all right and attempted to take the item from him. She was shocked when he violently pulled his hands away from her and clutched the item to his chest.

"Harry Potter! What on earth..."

The boy continued to hold the object in a death grip but turned it toward his aunt so she could see more clearly what had affected him so. Inside, pasted to the two pieces of wood, were two pictures. One of his parents at their wedding and the other of an infant Harry and his parents along with some other people that Petunia didn't recognize. Still unable to see what could have upset the child, the pictures _were_ moving but Harry couldn't know that, she gripped his shoulder again with concern.

"Aunt Petunia," the boy said, as he turned his tear streaked face toward her. "The pictures . . . I can see them, I can really see them."

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A/N: Hope that you all had fun reading this and that you'll send me a review.


	3. Chapter 3: the Letter and Another Birthd

Blind Faith

A/N: Thanks for all of the lovely reviews that you lot have given me. Hope you like the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Potter verse, just playing in her sandbox.

Chapter 3: the Letter and Another Birthday

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Harry sat snuggled against his aunt's side on the sofa; the day's events had drained them both. Now that the Pandora's box had been opened, however, neither of them would be able to sleep until one last thing had been addressed.

Clutched in the hands of each was a letter addressed to them. Petunia reverently folded her own and placed it in the pocket of her apron, deciding she would read it later after Harry was asleep. Gently taking the boy's envelope and opening it, she began to read aloud as Harry hugged his arms to his chest so tightly that his ribs creaked, listening to a message left to him by his mother, nearly ten years before.

 ** _My Dearest Harry,_**

 ** _I dread the thought of you ever having to read this letter, I can't bear the thought of not being there to see you becoming a young man. Events of the past few months, however, have me far more worried that you might grow up not knowing anything about myself or your father and the feelings we have for you. If you are reading this, then something has happened to either your father or myself and I wanted you to be able to know something about us._**

 ** _First off, I want to tell you how much your father and I love you. The proudest day of our lives was when you were born. I wish we were there to see you becoming a man, but it seems that it wasn't meant to be. Let me tell you something about how your father and I met._**

 ** _James and I met in our first year. Both of us were sorted into Gryffindor, and our relationship was a bit strained at first. Your father was an utter prat. During our time at school, James and his friends spent much of their time playing pranks and showing off for the girls. I'm sure that Sirius, Remus, and Peter have told you stories about their exploits and so I needn't go on about them. Regardless, as I said before, James was quite full of himself, what with being a Quidditch star, the heartthrob of all the houses, and leader of his own little pack of friends. I couldn't stand to be near him. It wasn't until one of their pranks nearly resulted in the death of one of our schoolmates that he decided to grow up and become the man I learned to love._**

 ** _Shortly after graduation we were married and both became Aurors. We were, and still are, fighting a mad wizard named Voldemort who seems to have followers in every part of the wizarding community. Needless to say, it was one of the happiest and most frightening prospects of our lives to find out that you were on the way. We agonized about whether we had the right to bring a child into such a world In the end, we knew we couldn't deny you the chance to find the happiness we have ourselves. I want you to understand how much more full, beautiful, and incredible our lives have become in the past year since you were born._**

 ** _Your godfather, Sirius, is James best friend. Unless he's changed, I suspect that you are a bit more mature than he is. Don't be too hard on him, though. Padfoot, that's his nickname, means well and he is nearly as devoted to you as James is. Thank goodness that we have Remus to keep him in check._**

 ** _Remus Lupin is another of your father's close friends, and was your father's second choice for godfather, if something were to happen to Sirius. Remus is a wise, and good friend. If ever you have a question, go to him – especially if Sirius is trying to talk you into some silly adventure._**

 ** _Lastly is Peter. Peter Pettigrew is the last of our tight-knit group of friends. He is the quiet one, always letting James, Sirius and Remus take the lead. I think he's so much more than he lets on, that one day he'll surprise us all with his cleverness. James and Sirius took Peter under their wing while we were still in school, trying to draw the shy boy out, he made them part of their little group. In school, they took on the name, the Marauders. They were the biggest pranksters at Hogwarts._**

 ** _These men are as much a part of your family as we are. We trust them all with our lives, as should you._**

 _ **We love you so much and my only regret is that, as you are reading this, we can't be there to watch you grow up. While Petunia and I have never seen eye-to-eye when it comes to magic, I have faith..."**_

Petunia stopped reading as she choked on her own words. Taking several moments, she got herself back under control and continued.

 ** _I have faith in my sister to see past our differences and I know that she will give you all the love and support you'll need. There is so much more I want to say but I'm beginning to rattle on like a schoolgirl. James says you have my eyes so I'll have you remember this: I'll always be with you, and watching over you. Whenever you look into the mirror and see those green eyes looking back, know that I'm there._**

 _ **Love Eternal,**_

 _ **Mum**_

Harry lay against his aunt, truly crying for the first time in his life that she could remember. She held him tightly with tears rimming her eyes as his sobbing quieted and he drifted into a deep sleep.

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Morning came and Harry slowly stirred from a dreamless sleep as the smell of cooking sausage roused his stomach. He found himself still curled up on the sofa, though a pillow and warm blanket seemed to have joined him there at some point during the night. Sitting up, he sensed the box still in front of him on the coffee table. A quick investigation showed that everything save the letter addressed to Aunt Petunia had been placed neatly back into the box. Running his fingers over the parchment of his own letter, Harry felt tears welling up anew. Removing his hand from the box and getting himself under control he got to his feet and padded into the kitchen to find his aunt.

Harry stood in the doorway for a few moments as his aunt bustled about, and noticed that there were some profound changes in her since the previous evening. Always before, she'd had angry red sparks flowing through her, even when she was in a fairly good mood. This morning, however, many of those same sparks were now gone, replaced with softer hued ones that he was fairly sure meant she was somewhat remorseful about something and, if not happy, then at least less sad. He was startled out of his musings by a sudden stifled scream.

Stumbling backward and fearing that he'd somehow upset his aunt, he turned to go until he felt her hands upon his shoulders. "Harry! Oh, you gave me a start." She pulled him back into the kitchen and towards the table. "I wasn't expecting you up so early. Here, have something to eat, birthday boy."

Petunia quickly brought forth plates of eggs and sausage, more than enough to feed three people, but his aunt seemed intent on having Harry eat every bite. They sat at the table making small talk as the boy ate, and he couldn't help but feel just a bit uncomfortable, as this kind of behaviour was uncommon in his aunt. On previous birthdays he'd always helped, at least to some degree, with the food preparation, and, from what he could tell, she'd apparently already taken care of Dudley by herself this morning as well.

Both were nearly startled out of their chairs when the same precise knock from the day before sounded at the front door. Scrambling to answer it, they opened the door to find Professor McGonagall along with another woman and a man who seemed so huge that Harry thought he'd have to bend double to fit through the door.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dursley, Mr. Potter. I've brought our school nurse, Madame Pomfrey to take a look at Dudley." Petunia quickly ushered them into the house and closed the door. In the parlour everyone gathered and the professor introduced the huge man. "This is Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. We were hoping he might take young Harry to Diagon Alley this morning after we're finished here."

"Pleased t' meet yeh," the half-giant said, spying the boy standing half hidden behind his aunt. "An here's Harry." Something in Hagrid's voice made Harry feel he could trust the huge man and he mutely returned a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Look a lot like yer dad. Err…I got summat fer yeh here. I mighta sat on it at some point but it'll taste alright."

Harry felt a somewhat crushed box thrust into his hands. With his aunt's help, he opened the lid and the aroma of chocolate wafted out.

"Thank you," Harry said as Petunia carried the surprisingly heavy cake back into the kitchen. "You knew me when I was a baby?"

"Yeah, I brought you here when…err…when yeh know, I had t' bring yeh here…"

"You knew my parents then?" the boy asked to get past the awkward moment.

"Yeah, well enough. Everyone knew James and his gang; always into some kind of trouble, that bunch," Hagrid said with a fond smile.

Harry's head turned as he heard his aunt and the two women climb the stairs to Dudley's room. "Hagrid," the boy said, "I really would like to hear more about my dad, but..."

The half-giant glanced up the stairs after the retreating women and ruffled the boy's hair. "Off with yeh and see t' yer cousin. I'm thinking we'll have seven years fer tellin stories bout yer mum n' dad."

The boy smiled gratefully in Hagrid's direction and ran up the stairs to Dudley's room. Inside, Professor McGonagall and Petunia stood by while Madame Pomfrey ran her wand over every inch of his cousin's body. He watched the sparks as they showered from the wand and danced with Dudley's own. They then rose up above the boy's body and changed into shapes that the Mediwitch could read.

Harry took his cousin's hand and half-listened to the woman as she listed the injuries to Dudley that the doctors had missed. His brain, spine, and nerves were damaged in several areas that could be repaired for the most part by her. As to whether or not he would wake up, only time would tell. The boy paid her little attention because the casting of the spell had brought something to the boy's attention. When he focussed his inner eye just so, he could see the same thing the spell had done before. Dudley's nervous system was stretched out before him to study.

Mumbling to herself, the Mediwitch reached into her bag and pulled out a stoppered vial. Lifting the comatose boy's head, she gently poured the concoction down Dudley's throat as he swallowed reflexively. Within moments, the boy's nerves began to glow a beautiful golden colour, broken in places by duller amber sections. Madame Pomfrey explained that the potion would make the nerves, always difficult to repair, more amenable to the healing spell.

Starting at Dudley's feet she began to cast a complex charm that caused the golden sections to overwhelm the amber and repair the damage. Harry watched as she slowly worked up the boy's legs and turned his attention to his cousin's hand. He could sense old damage in his cousin's arm and, without thinking, he used his own sparks to change the amber spots golden again. Before he knew it, he had worked all the way up Dudley's arm and was repairing damage in the boy's chest and spinal cord. When he neared Dudley's head, however, he suddenly felt a pulling sensation and everything became dark.

Harry woke up to find himself in a run-down version of his own home. In this version of his 'house', Harry could see as he did before the accident. Rather than sparks, he saw solid objects. The walls were dirty and broken with amber shutters closing off his view of the outside. Walking to the entryway he noticed large locks on the front door of the same hue. He could see everything here and was just beginning to explore when he heard a whimper come from the cupboard under the stairs. Moving quickly to the door, Harry pulled it open to see a fat little blond-headed four-year-old hunched in the corner crying.

"Dudley?" the boy asked in shock. He wasn't really sure of what was going on yet, but somehow he knew he'd have to get his cousin out of this house if either of them were to get back to where they should be.

"Dudley…Dudders. It's Harry. Aunt Petunia sent me looking for you…it's…it's dinnertime."

For the first time since he'd come across him, the other boy lifted his head and squinted a piggish little eye suspiciously in his direction.

"What are you doing here freaky-freak?" The child spoke with the same tone and vocabulary of the spoiled four-year-old Harry remembered. "I'm alone here. I'm always alone, forever."

The decrepit house creaked ominously around them and Harry began tugging on his cousin to pull him out of the closet. "Come on Dudders we have to go!" Harry was becoming desperate. There were sounds of things breaking upstairs; he got the distinct impression that this house was ready to fall down. Harry had a weird flashback to when he'd been trapped in the car with Uncle Vernon and instinctively knew that they needed to leave before this fake house collapsed.

"Dudders…Dudders! Think! Aunt Petunia is waiting for you, your mum. We have to go or we'll miss her." He finally got the podgy little boy to stand and come to the door.

"We can't go out that way, I've tried," said the shorter boy.

Harry knew, he felt it in his bones that they had to leave through the door, had to break past the locks. Concentrating as hard as he could, he tried to will the sparks to return and change the lock just like it had with his cousin's injuries but nothing was happening. He had nearly given up when he had a thought.

"Dudders," he said. "Grab hold of the lock and think about it going away."

The four-year-old version of Dudley looked at him suspiciously but complied with Harry's request as the raven-haired boy placed one hand on Dudley's shoulder and one over his extended hand. Pushing his sparks through his cousin, Harry was disappointed at first when nothing happened. Then he noticed a light inside his skin trace the length of his finger and enter the metal. With a tremendous effort, he willed more of the lights to come, and slowly their bodies converted into the lights and began eating away at the barricade. The strain was terrible, and surprisingly painful as well. Harry grabbed onto Dudley tighter and yelled for him not to let go as the door before them exploded and they fell into a white light.

Harry slowly came to after what felt like an eternity. He was lying on the bed in his room with his aunt sitting by him, a cool cloth mopping his brow.

"What happened?"

"You fainted Mr. Potter." came a voice from across the room where Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway with the Mediwitch.

"Dudley?" the boy asked "Did he wake up?"

"Not as of yet, but he may not for several days." Harry noticed something odd in Madam Pomfrey's tone as she spoke, but he was so tired he couldn't focus his inner eye towards her. "I'm quite sure, however, that most of the damage to your cousin seems to be repaired."

Struggling to do so, Harry sat up and forced himself to his feet. Ignoring his aunt's attempts to stop him he shuffled towards the door feeling like he'd already run for a day and a half non-stop. His mystified aunt and visitors following, he entered his cousin's room, stumbled to the bed, and collapsed into a chair beside Dudley. Leaning over, he gently shook his cousin's shoulder and said, "Come on, Dudders, it's time to get up."

There was no response at first, and Petunia came over to try to get Harry to go back to bed when they heard someone say in a voice that was both sleepy and very scratchy from lack of use, "Just five more minutes, Mum."

Harry had never wished more for his sight thanat this moment just to see his aunt's expression in that moment. Instead, he was rewarded with a yelping scream from her as she rushed to her only son and began to blubber over him. Harry relaxed in the chair and started to doze back off, totally unaware of the odd stares he was receiving from the doorway.

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A/N: Read and review. More reviews means faster updates, and faster updates mean that we'll get to the new chapters sooner.


	4. Chapter 4: Diagon Alley

Blind Faith

A/N: Here goes another chapter.

Disclaimer: Don't own the Potter verse, never will.

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Chapter 4: Diagon Alley

Harry woke with a start as someone was gently shaking his arm.

"Are you feeling any better?" His aunt asked, "You've slept half the day away."

The boy stretched in the chair and took stock of himself. He did feel better, he realized. After his little fainting spell with Dudley, Harry had felt drained and out of sorts. Now, though still a bit tired he felt more his normal self. "How's Dudley?" he asked.

"Resting." His aunt said as she squeezed his hand in her own. "Harry, he's come out of it! My little baby, he's so weak but The Pomfrey woman said it would only be a matter of time to get his strength back. She said she'd return with medicine to help him."'

"They've gone, haven't they?" Harry felt keen disappointment that he'd slept through most of his birthday and missed the opportunity to go see a bit of the wizarding world.

"All but the big one," Aunt Petunia replied, "he's fallen asleep on the couch." Hugging his aunt, the boy left the room to leave her alone with her son and slipped down the stairs to the parlour. Tip-toeing into the room regardless of the fact that a heard of elephants could have wandered through and not been heard over the snores of the half giant he hunkered down in front of the sleeping man.

Curiosity, always his greatest enemy, got the better of him and he reached his hands out to examine the sleeping behemoth before him. Harry ran his fingers over the wiry beard of the man. For a moment he thought he'd found a small birds nest complete with eggs but he knew that couldn't be right. He traced his hands over the huge mans face; running his fingers along the man's cheeks, nose and brow. He liked this man, he somehow seemed familiar and the scent of him was like a forest... and a little bit of alcohol. He was about to continue his investigation when Hagrid suddenly spoke.

"Err... Harry, what are yeh doin?"

The boy jumped back and stuttered, "I'm Sorry! It's... It's just that... I wanted to know what you looked like. I should have asked."

"Nah," the bearish man said. "S' alright Harry. Not that I'm all that worth looking at." Sitting himself upright on the sofa he said. "Since yer cousin's alright, yeh want te go pick up yer school things?" At the boy's eager yelp the big man laughed and pulled on his heavy coat.

Harry called up to his Aunt Petunia, telling her they were going. She came down the stairs and pulled her nephew into a hug.

"I'd like to thank you for what you did for Dudley yesterday. The medi-witch told me that you helped her heal him after you had fallen asleep."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad, though I do wish that I had still been awake enough to talk to her about Dudley's outcome."

"You could always talk to her about it at Hogwarts," said Aunt Petunia.

"I guess you're right. Will you be able to take care of Dudley once I leave for school?"

"Yes. Madame Pomfrey sounded very optimistic about his outcome; with the proper neutrision and potions, he'll probably begin to recover."

"That's excellent. Makes me feel better about going to Hogwarts, now that I know he may be just fine in time."

"Take care Harry, and have fun." Turning to Hagrid she said, "You'll have him home by ten o'clock."

With Petunia's blessing, Harry retrieved his collapsible cane and they were out the door and on their way to Diagon Alley.

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Harry extended his cane as they walked down the drive and to the edge of the street. "So how do we get there Hagrid?" The raven-haired boy asked.

"Well the entrance is in downtown London," the half giant said, "so we'll catch the train."

The two made an odd pair walking through the achingly normal neighbourhood as they made their way towards the train station. Passers-by would call out friendly greetings to Harry but stare at the huge man with him who seemed to be amused by the most mundane things such as mailboxes and parking meters.

At last they made it to the train station where he let Harry buy the tickets. Explaining that he didn't understand muggle money. As they settled into their seats the boy suddenly thought of something and tugged on the sleeve of the big man's coat.

"Hagrid," he said. "How am I going to pay for my school things? We don't have a lot of money at home and I've got nothing on me."

"Don't worry yerself about that," said the half-giant, "yeh don't think James and Lilly would leave yeh with nothing. We're stopping at Gringot's first thing when we get there."

"What's Gringot's?"

"Wizards bank," said Hagrid, "run by goblins. Safest place in the world if yeh want to keep something safe."

"Goblins?" The boy asked, "like monsters?"

Hagrid shook his head, forgetting the boy couldn't see the motion. Goblins are considered dark creatures like vampires and werewolves... but they're not monsters." Harry sat there several minutes, wondering what, exactly he'd gotten himself into.

They sat in silence as the train rolled on and Hagrid read a magical newspaper that Harry could see not only the glowing letters of the writing on the page, but the moving pictures within as well.

"Ministry of Magic messin' things up again" Hagrid mumbled as he read along.

"The what?"

"Ministry of Magic," said the man. "They wanted Dumbledore, the headmaster, to be minister but he wouldn't have it. Cornelius Fudge took the job though. Greatest bungler you'd ever meet. Drives Dumbledore mad with all his owls askin' fer advice." Hagrid folded his paper as the train reached the outskirts of London and pulled an envelope from his pocket.

"Here yeh go Harry, hold on ter that. It's yer list o' school supplies."

The boy took the parchment and unfolded it. There on the paper in both in glowing written letters he could 'see' and in Braille was the list of things he would need for school. "Hagrid, There's a lot here. Are you sure I'll have enough money?"

The big man didn't answer, just clapped a great hand on the boy's knee and rested his chin on the handle of the huge umbrella he was carrying. They got off the train at Kings Cross station and navigated their way out onto the street. Harry had never been to London since the accident and the large crowds were a bit daunting. Hagrid seemed to know where to go, however and he cut a path through the masses of people with the young boy close behind.

As they walked, Harry wondered where they would find shops that sold wands, cauldrons, or magical broomsticks. He knew he'd never heard anything like that advertised on the box and everywhere about him for the most part seemed the sparks for normal people and things. A few blocks on Harry noticed that one shop seemed to be much brighter in his mental vision. The sparks on the signboard above it spelled out the letters that the boy could read just as Hagrid announced their arrival.

"Here we are, the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place. Stay close teh me Harry."

Entering the Place Harry found himself torn as to whether he liked it or not. It was small, cosy and smelled of warm bread and ancient wood. Everything inside was magical from the bar top to the spittoons which made it easy to navigate. It was the magical nature of the place, however that was giving Harry problems. It was so intense that he found himself instinctively squinting against the glare and had to unfocus his inner eye or develop a killer headache.

The buzz of conversation stopped as they entered then slowly started back up again. Hagrid answered several warm greetings from some of the patrons as he made his way back to the bar and seated himself with Harry standing closely by. Harry heard the man behind it come up and ask, "The usual Hagrid?"

"Can't Tom, I'm on official Hogwarts business." The half-giants hand came down on Harry's shoulder like a fallen log and he was nearly thrown from his feet.

"My word," said tom, "is that... Harry Potter, welcome back, so wonderful to meet..." The man took in Harry's dark glasses and cane. Turning to the other man he said in a strained whisper, "Hagrid, he's blind?"

Harry grimaced. He'd put up with strangers pity since he'd lost his sight and it never failed to piss him off when someone would suddenly treat him like an infant or an invalid because he couldn't see.

"Very... nice... to... meet... you... Harry..." tom said very slowly in a loud voice. He was about to remind the barkeep that while he was sightless his ears were working quite well when he was suddenly swamped by the patrons of the bar as they all swarmed about him trying to see, touch or talk to him. With rising panic he yelled for Hagrid and was hugely relieved when the giant hand wrapped itself around him and held him close.

"Here now," said the great, gravely voice. "Give the boy some room."

"Is. Ev... everything alright Hagrid?" A new voice came from off to one side, it's owner sounded as nervous as Harry felt.

"Professor Quirrell," said Hagrid, "Nah, they was just crowdin' the boy a bit. Harry, this is Professor Quirrell, he'll be one of your teachers this year."

"Good to see... err.. Meet you Mr. Potter." Said the professor. I ttt-teach defence a... against the Ddark arts. Bbbuying your school ttthings then? I'm here for a book on vampires myself. Well I. I must be off." With that the nervous man made a quick exit out the back door.

They made to leave but had the crowd to contend with and even with Hagrid's protective arm around him they still came and badgered them. Finally after ten minutes of it they were able to escape to the back door into a small walled in courtyard.

Harry paused to re-focus his inner eye and get a sense of where they were. Hagrid had led him to a wall where the sparks seemed to swirl inward toward its centre, like water down a drain. The half-giant tapped a few bricks with his umbrella and the swirling sparks opened up like a giant iris to expose a brilliant panorama before him.

The twisting street before him seemed to be made of light. Each shop along the way glowed with its own special hues and he found he could read all the signs as well. He hoped that he would get used to the harsh glare from all of it or he'd never be able to function here. As they stood at the entrance, Hagrid ruffled his hair and said, "I know yeh can't see it Harry but welcome to Diagon Alley."

They stepped through the archway and the half-giant led him down the street towards the wizard's bank. The sparks like some illuminated sketch outlined everything. Off to one side was a shop selling cauldrons, and on the other was a woman moaning over the price of Dragon livers.

Finally they reached Gringot's. Stepping inside they stepped up to one of the many counters. The being behind it seemed even shorter than Harry and the pattern of the sparks was markedly different than with other people he'd seen so far. What marked the being most in the boys mind was the scent of the creature, like old musty paper... he didn't know why, but it seemed... right.

"Mornin," said Hagrid to the goblin. "We're here te get some money from Harry Potter's vault."

"And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?"

"Wait," said Hagrid, "got it here somewhere... Ah!" After a short stint digging through his pockets he'd come up with a small golden key. "Here we are... I also got a letter from Dumbledore about the you know what in vault you know where."

The goblin read the note and nodded. "Of course... Griphook!" Another goblin, looking much the same as the first came up. "Take Mr Hagrid and Mr. Potter to their respective vaults."

Griphook led them through a door into a rough-hewn, deeply sloping tunnel with tracks affixed to the floor. The goblin whistled and a cart zoomed up the tracks and stopped before them. They all got in and were off. They careened through a maze of tunnels; Harry was whipped back and forth in the cart and was having a grand time. Hagrid on the other hand had turned an alarming shade of green and was making noises that alerted the boy to the fact. His concern grew as he considered the possibilities of a nauseous Hagrid in such a small cart. They rode along with the cold air stinging his cheeks the boy could have sworn he'd heard a deep-throated roar at one point. Finally they came screeching to a halt before a small door. Hagrid staggered from the cart with the boy jumping after. The big man clutched the rock as he waited for his knees to stop shaking and Harry asked.

"Are there monsters down here? I heard a roar on the cart."

"A dragon most likely," said Hagrid, "Always wanted one, I did, for a pet."

They both turned as grip hook opened the door and green smoke came billowing out. Whatever was inside wasn't inherently magical and when the boy made his own sparks brighter he got the shadowy impression of a mounds of something. Turning to Hagrid the boy asked, what's in there?"

The large man sucked in a slow breath, "A whole lot of Galleons, Harry."

"What are Galleons?"

"Wizarding money, lad." Hagrid said. Taking the boy's hand he led him into the vault. "Here," he said placing a coin in the boys hand. "This is a gold Galleon. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze knuts to a Sickle." He pushed a new coin into the boy's hand as he explained them to give Harry a chance to familiarize himself with the size, shape and heft of each. Puling out a bag he'd brought for the purpose, Hagrid filled it with Galleons and handed it to Harry. "That'll keep yeh for a term or two."

Turning to Griphook, Hagrid said, "Vault seven hundred and thirteen please, and if yeh could go a little slower..."

"One speed only," said Griphook.

Back in the cart they went even deeper, where the air became very cold. From the echoes around them Harry knew that there was a deep ravine below them but Hagrid refused to let the boy get near the edge of the cart to listen better. Stopping again they sat before a door without a keyhole. Getting out with Griphook, Hagrid told Harry to stay put. When the goblin stroked the door it melted away and Harry could sense some kind of strange bundle on the floor. It was extremely bright and the sparks were woven in a design that resembled a sideways figure eight. Hagrid picked up the parcel and put it in his coat, obviously in an attempt to hide it from the boy. Harry fought down the grin because no matter where he tried to hide it the giant still had the brightly glowing spot on his body.

A quick cart ride later and they were back inside the main hall of Gringot's again Harry didn't know where to start. He knew that in the bag he had more money than he'd seen in his entire life. A sudden idea striking him, he went back to one of the counters he asked the goblin,

"Can I get some of the money from my vault changed to regular... I mean muggle money?"

The goblin regarded him coolly, "Of course, sir." The boy was asked to show his key again and how much he wanted to exchange.

"I guess one hundred Galleons?"

"Yes sir," said the goblin, "That will be roughly ten thousand British pounds. Will you be taking it now or would you like it sent to your home?"

Harry just stood staring at the creature. Ten thousand pounds? In the time his mouth hung open a colony of flies could have made a comfortable home and raised families. Finally pulling himself together he asked for it to be sent to 4 Privet Drive in Surrey, in care of his aunt. Finished with his business and not daring to think just how much money was actually down in that vault, he went school shopping with Hagrid.

"We'll start with your uniform I guess," said the half-giant. Leading him to the door he stood at the entryway and said, "Tell yeh what, Harry. I'm gonna let yeh take care of this while I run down to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick pick me up. I'm needin' it after that blasted cart."

Inside the shop it was cosy and warm. He could hear the humming of a witch in the other room as she was pinning the robes of another boy about the same size as Harry as the boy took in the atmosphere the proprietor came up to him. She was a squat, smiling woman who smelled of spices. With a warm voice she asked, "Hogwarts dear? The lot just came in today." The woman obviously noted the presence of his dark glasses and cane as she suddenly became overly helpful.

Harry hated this with sighted people. Once they realized Harry was blind they thought of him as helpless. He hadn't thought that of himself since he was four and when people treated him that way it really pissed him off. Controlling his temper, however he smiled to the woman and allowed her to help him onto a footstool by the other boy and stood still as she placed a robe on him and began to pin it for length.

"Hello," said the other boy, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes." He replied.

"My father's next door buying books and mother is up the street looking at wands, I don't know why it's not like she can pick mine out... Err... Why the dark glasses? It's already dim enough in here already."

"I hadn't noticed," said the boy as he dropped a broad hint, "I wear them because my eyes make people nervous."

Having had his interest captured, the other boy turned and asked. "Why? Are they like cat eyes? Do they glow red?"

"Not quite," the boy responded as he pulled his glasses off and gazed in the other's direction, pointedly ignoring the sound of the other boy falling off his footstool. "I've been blind since I was four. From what I'm told most people are a little put-off by how they look."

Harry was used to the uncomfortable stares he received when people saw his eyes and the silence as nobody seemed to know how to carry on after that but was shocked by the other's final response.

"Wicked," the boy whispered, "I mean, not wicked that you're blind I mean your eyes... they're cool. So do you know anything about quiddich?"

The boy shook his head. "My aunt has raised me since I was one and she doesn't like magic. I didn't even know I was a wizard until yesterday."

"Well, anyway I'm Draco Malfoy," said the other boy, "and you are?"

"All done dear," said the witch as she pulled the robe off him. He hopped down and made his way to the door.

"I'll see you at school then?" said Draco

"See you then." Harry replied as he went out the door.

The conversation with the boy had made Harry realize one very important thing. He needed to know more about this new world. Hagrid not being back yet he made his way over to Flourish and Blotts. Inside he went to the counter and explained to the man that he was a first year Hogwarts student and that he'd need versions of the books for the blind.

The man behind the counter smiled genuinely and took the boy by the shoulder. Come this way lad. He took him to the shelves and pulled out 'Standard book of spells level 1' "These are magical books lad." He opened the book in front of the boy and firstly Harry realized he could read the magical script inside but then the man took his hand and placed it in the book. Over the words he felt bumps appear that were obviously Braille. "These books are meant to teach, boy. If you're French or German the language of the book changes so you can read it, just like it did for you being without sight."

Harry grinned with the possibilities. The numbers of books around him was enormous and they were all books he could read. Like a kid in a candy store the boy quickly gathered a huge pile of books, far more than his required reading but also wizarding histories and books on healing, magical theory and quiddich. He wouldn't be ignorant of his world for long if he could help it.

He was standing at the counter, trying to figure out where he was going to put all the books when he heard Hagrid's voice out on the street.

"Harry!"

The boy quickly navigated his way to the door and called the big man in. Seeing the pile of books he borrowed some of the boys money and was back shortly thereafter with a school trunk for the boy. Harry was fascinated as the huge man kept stuffing books into one small compartment yet it never seemed to get over full. Finally they were finished and on they went to the apothecary.

Inside, Harry got all of his supplies and a small amount of most of the common components used in potions making. From his experiences cooking it was very important to know the scent and textures of his ingredients. They continued on until all that was left was his wand.

Entering Olivander's, Harry was hit by the scent and feeling of age. This place was old, older than Diagon Alley itself. And lining the walls were hundreds of boxes each with a different wand in them. He could sense each one and the sparks that floated along their lengths. He was pulled from his musings when an old man came to the counter. "Ah, Mr. Potter, I knew you'd be coming in soon. You look quite a bit like your father. Now which is your wand arm?"

The boy shook his head, "I don't know. I can do everything equally well with both."

"Ambidextrous, well then, lets see if we can't find you a wand." They went through box after box. Each time Harry would be asked to hold the wand and give it a flick. Harry didn't see the point; he could see that the sparks in any particular one didn't mix with his own just by getting close to them. Finally the old man brought out a particularly dusty box.

"Maybe... but still, the wand chooses the wizard... Try this one Mr. Potter; holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches."

As soon as the man approached with it, he knew that was it. Taking the shaft and flicking it through the air, bright sparks shot from the tip as his own magic and that of the wand melded into one.

"Curious..."

Turning to the old mans comment, Harry asked, "What's curious, sir?"

"The Phoenix that gave up the tail feather to make that wand only gave up one other. The brother of this wand is the one that gave you that scar. I think we can expect great things from you Mr. Potter. After all, He who must not be named did great things, terrible, but great."

The boy left the shop and went with Hagrid to the Magical Menagerie. Hagrid had wanted to get Harry an owl for his birthday but something was drawing the boy here. As he walked through the shop he was drawn to a back corner where he felt something feathery brush against his ear.

"What's that?"

"He speaks the first tongue." Whispered a voice just by him.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I am Coatl," said the whispery voice.

"That's your name?"

"No, warm blood, I am Coatl. I have no name until a human takes me as his own."

"Careful there lad, that thing is dangerous." The owner came up behind Harry and tried to push back the creature but was met with an angry hiss. "Let's just step back a bit," he said.

"Tell me about her," Harry said, "What does she look like?"

Noticing the boy's glasses for the first time the man nodded, "Alright, well it's a Coatl. They come from Central America they're winged, feathered snakes. This one is mostly white with black-tipped feathers."

"She sounds beautiful." The boy said. "How much is she?"

"It's not that simple," the man tried to explain, "They have to want to..." the man was interrupted by a whirr of wings followed by Harry feeling an unfamiliar but comfortable weight settle on his shoulders. Again he felt the feathery sensation as the snake rested its head by his ear. "I will be with you. But you must first give me a name."

"Hedwig." said the boy with a smile.

The two had found each other and no amount of arguing from Hagrid or the shopkeeper could dissuade the boy from his choice. A half an hour later the boy left the shop with his pet, a cage, food and a book on Coatls as they whound their way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"All fine and good," said the half-giant as they went, "I'll talk to Dumbledore about it yer gonna have te tell yer aunt." Hagrid walked on as Harry stopped, gaping after him, how would he talk Aunt Petunia into letting him keep a carnivorous flying snake in the house?

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A/N: All right, that's chapter four. Thanks for your continued reviews. And before anybody complains, yes I never let Draco get nasty in Madame Malkin's but Harry kind of did an end run with his eyes and threw him off the track. I haven't decided what kind of relationship he'll have with Malfoy, or with Ron for that matter. You can be sure though that the youngest Weasley boy will be suffering from foot-in-mouth disease, it's just who he is.


	5. Chapter 5: the Hogwarts Express

Blind Faith

A/N: To reply to wsparkman's review, Harry went to the blind school, and at every blind school, they have a low vision department, AKA not everyone there is totally blind. I am and learned some print through the magnet letters that you put on the refrigerator. Let's just pretend that they had them at the blind school and that's how he learned how to feel print. Once he got his second sight, he spent time mentally going over the letters in his mind so he could remember some print.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.

Chapter 5: the Hogwarts Express.

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The month leading up to Harry's leaving for school flew by. The boy buried himself in his books, wading through both a general history of the wizarding Europe as well as 'Hogwarts, a History.' He'd started on the first year course books but had been forced by Aunt Petunia to start taking breaks after he'd locked himself in his room for an entire week reading.

Harry's attention was also split by an ongoing battle between his aunt and Hedwig. Petunia had not been exactly pleased, to say the least, when her nephew had shown up _late_ on the night of his birthday with a six-foot feathered and winged snake wrapped about his shoulders. Hagrid, proving that he knew how to apparate, vanished before the woman could even open her mouth in protest. After being unable to order or cajole the boy into getting rid of the magical snake, she divided her time with them either chasing it with a broom or removing dead mice from her slippers. If it hadn't been for the distraction created by Dudley, Harry was sure his aunt would have lost all patience and kicked them both out to live in the back yard.

The recovery of Harry's cousin was slow but no less phenomenal. From a boy who'd been comatose just weeks before he was now able to sit up in a chair unassisted and even take short walks with help. Dudley was also recovering a healthy appetite and was gaining back some badly needed weight. Not that he was in any danger of becoming the gluttonous pig of a boy that he'd been before the accident.

September 1st finally came and found a middle aged woman and two boys waiting at the divide between platforms nine and ten at Kings Cross Station. One boy, a blond in a wheelchair was obviously bored and spent his time squeezing a rubber ball in his hand. The other, a pale, raven-haired boy with dark glasses and a long white cane was looking at a ticket with his aunt.

"You're sure this is where you're supposed to be?" Petunia asked the boy.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," the boy responded, pointing at the wall. "The entrance is right here."

"Well," she said uncertainly, "If you're sure..." She pulled her nephew into a tight hug. "Your mother would be so proud of you..." She pushed him back out to arms length and said quietly, almost to herself, "So many regrets... Run along now, we'll see you at Christmas break. And remember to send that bloody beast at least once a week with a letter." With a final hug to Petunia and ruffling of Dudley's hair, the boy turned and pushed his trolley through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, vanishing from view.

The transition to the platform was much similar to entering Diagon Alley a month before. The magic was so strong here that It was somewhat painful but he vowed to force himself to get used to it, after all, it couldn't get much worse than this, could it? He pushed his trolley towards the huge glowing thing that must be the train and went about trying to find an empty compartment. As he walked he sensed all kinds of wizards around him. Some were strong, others weak and especially among the younger ones like him he could feel potential untapped and waiting. As he found the entrance he heard one boy with particularly strong potential that seemed somehow blocked say, "Gran... I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, Neville," sighed an old woman.

Harry also noticed a group of people also about to board as the one who's mother was trying to wipe something off her youngest sons face. "Ron, you've got something on your nose."

"Mom-geroff!"

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got something on his nose again?" This came from two separate voices that sounded like one. They were twins, he realized. Their magical signatures, the patterns their sparks wove themselves into that identified him to his inner eye, were almost exactly identical.

Harry smirked to himself and began to try and pull his trunk onto the train and was having a time of it. Two of the boys from the group, the twins, came over and one said, "Need some help?"

"Thanks," the boy replied. They soon had the trunk on the train and in the luggage rack above the seat. Harry had just released the door on Hedwig's pet carrier and turned to thank them again when he was met with a sudden momentary silence.

"Hey, you're not..."

"Harry Potter... but I didn't know you were... oh, sorry."

Harry smiled, "No, it's alright. Nobody really knows what to say the first time they notice. It happened when I was four. Just don't make a big deal out of it ok?"

"No problem mate, so what's in the cage? Not a rat, like little Ronnikins has is it?"

"No, nothing like that," the boy said with a smile.

"Well mum is going to need us to help load our things, see you in a bit right?"

Harry held out his hand and shook each of theirs in turn. "Yeah and thanks again."

After they'd left he settled back and pulled out the potions text. He was giving this more attention than most because he somehow knew that it would be his most challenging class. Hedwig had settled on top of his trunk near the ceiling. The train started moving and Harry continued reading. He was only a few pages farther into the book when the door opened again and the twins came in followed by the boy with the dirty nose from outside.

"Mind if I sit here?" The boy asked, "Everywhere else is full." Harry shook his head and put the book away as the other boy sat down. The boy looked at him fixedly for a moment then quickly out the window, pretending he hadn't been staring.

"Hey Harry," said one of the twins, "we forgot to introduce ourselves earlier. I'm Fred,"

"And I'm George Weasley. That's Ronnie over there, our ickle brother. We're going down the train to see Lee Jordan's giant Tarantula, see you in a bit."

None of them but Harry had heard the quiet rustle from above as Hedwig became alerted to a nearby, possible meal. The boy made a note to himself to talk to the snake about other people's pets later. After Fred and George left the two boys sat in silence until the redhead couldn't take it anymore.

"You're really Harry Potter?"

"Yes," the boy said shortly.

"Do you have the?" The boy started pointing furiously to his own forehead, trying to communicate what he wanted without saying it. Harry could tell what the boy was doing; he could 'see' the boy's motions in his signature but didn't let on.

"I'm sorry, what?"

The redhead jabbed his hand more urgently at his own forehead and whispered, "You know, the _scar_."

"Oh, right." Harry pulled back his fringe and exposed the scar given to him years before.

"That's it then," said Ron, "you got that from..."

"Yes," he replied. "But I really don't remember any of it."

"Nothing? Wow if somebody offed my mum and dad I think I'd never forget it."

Harry flinched at the other boys words, who seemed so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed he was being hurtful. Trying to get the subject off himself he asked, "So your whole family are wizards then?"

"Yeah," Ron replied. "Mum and dad are of course; he works at the ministry you know, he's head of the misuse of muggle artefacts office. Anyway you met the twins, Fred and George; troublemakers they are always doing pranks. They'll be starting Third year this term. Then there's Percy, he's in his fifth year now. All about rules, he is. I've got two older brothers too, Bill and Charlie. They've already gotten out of school, and my little sister Ginny, she starts next year."

Something squirmed against Ron's stomach and he pulled something from under his shirt. Harry hadn't noticed it before because its magical signature was weak but he realized it must be some kind of animal.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's just Scabbers, my pet rat." Ron said dejectedly. "Kind of pathetic, really."

Harry had seen rats before and while this had some resemblance to one he knew that it wasn't what it seemed. He was about to ask further when he heard a shuffling above him again and quickly told Ron to put it away.

"Why," the redhead asked, "he's been cooped up all day, he needs to stretch his legs."

"Because if you don't I'm not sure if I can keep my pet from eating him." he said pointing up. There were lots of times he wished he could still see and this was one of them. Both boy and rat let out almost identical squeals of fear as Hedwig stretched out a little bit and half spread her wings. The rat was quickly stuffed back under the boy's shirt and wrapped protectively in his arms. The redhead stared in horror as the Coatl slithered down and wrapped itself around Harry's shoulders.

"What the bloody hell is that thing?"

"This?" The boy asked as the snake rubbed its snout against his cheek. "It's just Hedwig." Harry whispered something to the small beast, which seemed to actually pull back and nod at the boy. "There, you see? She says she won't eat Scabbers." The dark haired boy cracked a smile, "In fact, she said she wouldn't think of it. The rat's far too old to taste any good."

Just then they heard a great clattering outside the door. When it opened a matronly woman asked if they wanted anything off the cart. Ron muttered something about sandwiches but Harry, not having tried any wizard candy before, got a little of everything. They were silent for a bit as the boy was struggling with an oddly shaped box that he couldn't seem to get open.

"Not like that," said Ron, "just grab the lid where it says pull."

"I don't know where that is," said a frustrated Harry. The other boy came over and took the box from his hand.

"It's right here... What, are you blind?" Ron suddenly became very still as he finally realized the significance of the other boys dark glasses and white cane leaning against the bench. "Bloody Hell," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry Harry, I never noticed... it's just that you were acting so normal."

Harry suddenly stood grabbing his cane in a white knuckled grip. "I think I should take a walk now... alone."

The boy left the compartment barely able to keep his hands from shaking in fury. He knew Ron hadn't meant to be hurtful but he was just so sick of people like him who thought that just because he couldn't see that he was somehow less than other people.

He moved through the train, putting distance between himself and the redhead. Up ahead he could sense two people approaching. A girl he'd never met before and the boy he sensed before with the hidden potential. The two of them were looking around slowly and the boy was actually down on his knees, obviously searching for something.

"Really Neville, he's got to be here somewhere. Just keep looking." When they met, the girl tapped the kneeling boy on the shoulder and helped him up. "Hello," she said, "Have you seen... I mean we're looking for Neville's toad, Trevor. He's disappeared again."

"I haven't run across him," he said, "but if you need help, I'll do what I can."

"Thank you. I'm Hermione Granger and this is Neville Longbottom."

"Pleased to meet you," he replied, "I'm Harry and this," he scratched the Coatl under the chin so it would raise its head from the crook of his neck, "is Hedwig." He felt the same stab of fear come from them that he'd felt with Ron but it was tinged with something else.

"She's... she's beautiful," whispered the girl in awe.

"Well, lets go find your toad," said Harry and they were off. They went car to car talking to people and investigating all the dark corners. Their quest also helped Harry in a way he didn't expect. Spending time with the other students and talking seemed to blunt some of their curiosity. That's not to say that the fact that the boy-who-lived being blind and had a huge feathered snake on his shoulders didn't attract attention but maybe if he met and talked to everyone they'd quit watching him and whispering this and that behind his back.

The search continued for the little toad, Harry relying on his ears and Hedwig's senses, as Trevor was either too small or simply masked out by all of the magical signatures nearby that Harry couldn't find him that way. It was finally the Coatl that found the little toad.

" _Master, I taste the scent of a cold-blood on the air. It is near the place we entered. In a smaller cave with odd, nasty smells."_

"Hermione," the boy asked, "is there a cupboard or something by the door where we came in?" Following Harry's words, the girl opened a small cupboard by the door and began rooting around. Shortly thereafter she pulled back holding a large toad up triumphantly.

"Found him!" Neville ran up and squeezed the toad to him tightly, making its eyes bug out even farther than normal. Harry had just joined them when a voice called out from the other end of the car.

"Someone said that Harry Potter is on the train, it's you then?" Turning, Harry recognised the voice from the boy at Madame Malkin's. Draco, flanked by two large goons, swept through the car and stopped before the boy. Malfoy was acting cocky and obnoxious, obviously showboating for his two bodyguards and his schoolmates. "Never did get to tell me your name the other day. This Crabbe and Goyle, some friends of mine." Harry cocked his head to the side as both boys nodded rather than speak. Looking a bit flustered, Draco elbowed them both sharply. After their muttered greetings, the blond turned his attention to Harry's two new friends. "Who's this then? Longbottom I recognise. But you," he said to Granger, "Who are your parents?"

"They're muggles, not part of the wizarding world."

"Muggles?" Turning to Harry, Draco sneered nastily and said, "Really Potter... Hanging out with a mud blood? You should know that some wizard families are better than others and you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," the blond put out his hand. "I can help you with that."

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for my self, thanks," said Harry. The blond boy began to pull his hand back as his ears turned pink with anger and embarrassment. Harry quickly reached out and grabbed it before the other boy could pull away and said, "Granger and Longbottom are my friends, and if you'd get your head out of your arse, I'd like you as a friend too."

Crabbe and Goyle had started towards the blind boy when he'd grabbed their leader but when Hedwig rose up on the boys shoulders and spread her wings, the two goons turned white as ghosts and ran as if their lives depended on it. Draco, stood before the boy, mouth agape at the beautiful and deadly creature regarded him.

"I... err... I'll see you later Potter." The boy left, not quite as angry as before, but a little bit fearful as well.

Harry led Hermione and Neville back to his compartment where Ron was noticeably absent. They sat and talked about Hogwarts and the coming school year until one of the prefects came and told them to put on their robes. Harry dressed and shortly after they pulled into the station. As they disembarked he had to repeatedly ask several people not to help him as he got off the train.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step now!" Gathering with the rest of the first years around Hagrid they all began to walk down a narrow, dark path. Harry was in his element, while the other children were having trouble keeping their feet the one boy experienced at walking in the darkness found it quite easy, now if he could just get rid of the nagging headache that was creeping up on him...

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Harry suddenly clutched his head as he rounded the turn. It was too much, too bright... and then he fell into an even deeper blackness.

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A/N: I'd like to thank all of you for the fantastic reviews I've received thus far.


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